The Meetings of the Waters
by astral flower
Summary: They say love is friendship set on fire. And to Reid, that was true. She intrigued him in ways he never thought were possible. And for the first time in a long time, she silenced the demons that fought to break him and brought him the calmness he so desperately needed. Reid/OC.
1. Prologue

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello! So, I'm fairly new to the Criminal Minds world which boggles my mind and I've had to ask myself what I've been doing with my life before I started watching the show. I'm pretty certain I'm quickly becoming obsessed with it which has allowed this creation to come from that budding obsession. This story began as a mere thought that I pushed aside but before I knew it, I had my notebook out and I was scribbling away, and ta-da!

There are a few things to add:  
1\. I'm currently watching Season 4 which isn't that far into it but I have big original ideas for it.  
2\. This story is based on the past and present relationship between Spencer and my OC.

So without further ado, here is _The Meetings of the Waters_.

I hope you enjoy!

..

PROLOGUE

Past

He remembered watching her from afar.

They were sat in the coffee shop on separate tables. Him with a case study, a cup of black coffee and a slice of banana bread. She, with a book whose spine was broken which could only mean that it wasn't her first time reading it, a hot chocolate with whipped cream, a chocolate cupcake, and her mobile phone laid beside her on the table. It illuminated the air around her every few seconds, and he would watch as she would tear her gaze away from her book and onto the phone for a few seconds before returning it to her book. Her hot chocolate and cupcake remained untouched, until the beverage became cold and the whipped cream was no longer as whipped as it was.

He moved his gaze from her and back down on the case file. It was a heavy case, and he found he needed to be in a normal place where normal people hung out when reading a violent case study. A young couple had been kidnapped and their families had begun to receive small boxes that contained parts of their children. Nails, locks of hair, at first. Then fingers, toes, ear lobes…

DNA testing proved to them that it was from the missing couple, but there was nothing else to suggest anything to them. The boxes always came clear of anything with no fingerprints, no traces of any DNA of the potential suspect.

He felt the burn of her stare first. He kept his calm despite the intensity of it being overwhelming, and kept his attention focused upon the case file. Her gaze remained on him for a moment, longer than a usual casual glance over, which he furrowed his brow out.

He bit the bullet and raised his gaze. His eyes fell on her immediately, and he observed her falter then, before she averted her gaze quickly, her eyes widening as she berated herself mentally. She fidgeted with the page of her book, hands and page shaking at being caught watching him.

A soft smile etched across his face at her embarrassed reaction. He returned his gaze onto the file, even though all he wanted to do was to watch her reaction. It wasn't long before he felt the heat of her gaze return, and he looked up slowly. She didn't look away this time, and he couldn't fight the smile that forced itself onto his face. He was awkward and shy, and so was she. He could tell from the way she held the page between two fingers, and the slight shake of the page despite there being no breeze.

She was smiling at him as if she remembered him from somewhere, but he couldn't place her. He hadn't seen her around campus; he remembered everyone's face, and he would have remembered hers. He furrowed his brow for a moment, as she tore her gaze away from him once more and packed her things away. She drank her cold hot chocolate and wrapped her cupcake up in the napkin and placed it in her bag.

She gave him one last smile before making her way out of the warm coffee shop and out onto the street outside. Something within him was telling him to follow her, but he knew it would look strange if he raced after her. Had she forgotten anything that he could give back to her? As he searched the table, he found nothing.

He heard the heavy door open and looked up to find her walking towards him. He was taken aback, and stood to his full height, a reflex of some sort that he couldn't control. She noted that with a smile. As she came to a stop in front of him, she rubbed the back of her neck: a nervous habit she'd tried to conquer.

"I… don't normally do this, but… would you like to go for coffee sometime?" she asked, her voice, soft and delicate, shook with nerves. "Even though you've just had a coffee… and we're standing in a coffee shop…"

"I'd love to," he had smiled, and had exchanged details. As he watched her leave, he sat back down and felt like he could take on the world.

And for the first time, Spencer Reid was speechless.


	2. Chapter One: Present

CHAPTER ONE

Present

His world was dark now.

It had been dark for some time, but it was only now that he realised just how much. As he sat in complete darkness, he couldn't remember the last time the curtains were opened, or when he last felt the warm sun upon his face. It seemed the life and soul of everything he once was, was removed from his very being; the laughter within his life disappearing into the darkness, taken away from him abruptly. He hadn't expected to feel this way; the not knowing when his world would become light again, and whether the pain, anguish and sorrow he felt within him would fade.

His whole routine was broken. He ate only when they made him; he drank nothing but alcohol to numb the pain, and he only slept when his body and mind became too exhausted to comprehend anything else. And in those moments of which he slept, he forgot about the harsh reality of his new world. The world that had been thrust upon him, and there was nothing he could do to change it. And he would wake up hours later with a start and reach for her, only to find her side of the bed cold and unslept in. He now usually collapsed on the couch; the pain of sleeping in their bed being too hard to comprehend.

She was gone.

She had walked out of their apartment that morning and she never came back. And it was as if there was a glitch in his reality that made him wonder if she had been real in the first place. Her things were still there, her clothes still hung in the closet, her books still lined the bookcase alongside his own books, every little trinket of hers remained within his grasp. She had been real, and she had been his.

A knock at the door sounded then, a sharp tapping of knuckles against the heavy wooden door. He closed his eyes, hoping that whoever was outside would get the idea and leave. He didn't want to see anyone or listen to anyone's voice. He just wanted silence. Even his own thoughts were invasive and unsettling. The knocking continued and became louder, and he could tell they were becoming frantic at the fact that he wasn't answering. That allowed him to narrow it down to a select few: his friends and colleagues. They were one and the same: his social interactions had always been limited, and his colleagues had quickly become like family to him.

He reached for the bottle of whisky and gulped down a mouthful. He stood to his full height and closed the gap between him and the door, just as another knock sounded. Reid pulled open the door. Gideon was standing there, his hands laden with groceries.

"I see, uh… you're still avoiding daylight," Gideon commented as Reid stared at him, deadpan.

"Night or day, doesn't matter now, does it?" Reid scoffed, moving out of the way to allow Gideon entrance to his apartment. As Gideon stepped past him, he allowed his eyes to scan the surroundings presented to him. A bed untouched; a duvet folded upon the couch; multiple empty beer and whisky bottles scattered around the room; books strewn over every surface available.

"When was the last time you ate, Spencer?" Gideon asked, his tone becoming worried. The older man turned to him as he navigated his way to the kitchen. Reid remained beside the closed door.

Ah, the use of his first name signified the seriousness of the situation. Like a child being told off and the use of his or her full name stopping them in their tracks. Spencer scoffed once more and shrugged.

"Been too intoxicated to care?" Gideon analysed his body language.

"Something like that," Reid said, seeing the disappointment radiate from his older friend. He was expecting an argument or a shake of the head, but he got nothing. Gideon simply nodded and placed the groceries down on the kitchen counter. He began to tidy away the clutter; the empty bottles, the pile of letters that Reid had thrown on the counter; the empty cartons of takeaway food left there to decay. At least he had eaten, Gideon thought, as he swiped the rubbish into a trash bag. "Why are you here?"

"You're my friend," Gideon shrugged. "And you need help. You'd do the same for me."

"I just want to be left alone," Reid whispered. "Please… just go."

Gideon observed him for a moment. "I can't do that. I left you alone before, and now I know you need my help. So… get used to me being around."

"I'm not a kid, Gideon. I don't need a babysitter," Reid hit back harshly. He didn't want to hurt his friends' feelings, he just wanted to be alone. He knew Gideon's intentions were true.

Gideon nodded. "I know you don't, but you need a friend."

..

Gideon had pulled open the curtains, cleared the empty bottles of alcohol, vacuumed, and straightened up the apartment by the time Reid came out of the shower. He had sent the young man in to freshen up, knowing that it would make him feel a little better. As Reid came out dressed in a fresh set of clothes, he was surprised how the apartment looked different with just a quick tidy. The smell of dinner cooking had filtered through the door to the bathroom and he had felt his stomach grumble as he realised just how hungry he was. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten.

"Smells good," Reid said as he came to sit down on the couch. Gideon looked up at him and smiled.

"Your favourite," Gideon commented, as he pulled open the oven. He started to plate up the food.

"You want a drink? I've got beer…" Reid asked as he stood up and moved to the kitchen.

"Not anymore," Gideon responded. "The drain looked particularly thirsty."

Reid stared at Gideon, deadpan. He scoffed and shook his head before running a hand through his hair.

"You know you're not supposed to be drinking," Gideon told him, his voice harsh. "You know what it does to you. You're relapsing with alcohol, and before you know it, it's… going to take you away too."

"Except this will be my doing," Reid responded bitterly. "She didn't have a choice though, did she?"

Gideon stopped in his tracks. "You want to talk about it?"

"No." Reid said harshly, turning away and returning to his couch.

Gideon watched Reid for a few moments before picking up the two plates and bringing them over to the dining table. He returned to the kitchen to grab cutlery and sauces before taking a seat at the table. "Dinner's over here, by the way," Gideon informed him. "If you want to join me, that is."

Reid was silent. He rested his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. Gideon could tell that Reid was resisting and hesitating, but he knew he was hungry with the way his fingers and foot kept twitching. It took a few more moments before Reid stood and closed the gap between them, slipping into the wooden chair in front of a warm meal. They ate in silence for a while, and Reid played with his food for most of that time.

"When did you last sleep?" Gideon asked him, as he took a bite. He wanted to allow Reid some normality, even if it was a simple conversation over dinner.

Reid looked up at him and shrugged. "Sleep isn't important anymore."

"I'm sure there's some doctors that will refute that statement," Gideon commented. He placed his cutlery down on the plate, knowing the next question he would ask would be a difficult one. "Have you, uh… visited her yet?

Reid's whole demeanour changed then, something that Gideon had expected. Gideon was quick to continue. "It's just, I've gotten a few calls from the hospital and the head nurse says she's doing well, that she's exceeding their expectations."

"No, I haven't," Reid answered, placing his cutlery upon the plate too and pushing it away. "And I'm not, by the way. I know what you're like, Gideon. You can't force me to go."

Gideon nodded. "I'm sure your daughter would like to hear your voice sometime."

"So, it's a girl?" Reid asked, to which Gideon nodded. "She wanted a girl. Ever since we found out… she had a name for her already."

Gideon offered him a sad, knowing smile. "What was it?"

"Evelyn Rose," Reid said in a whisper. "But that doesn't matter now, does it?"

"Why doesn't it, Reid?"

"Because the baby is going up for adoption," Reid stood from his seat. "If you don't mind, could you leave me alone? I need to, uh… I want to be alone."

Gideon respected his wishes and left shortly afterwards. As soon as the door closed behind him, Reid locked it fully, placed the dishes in the sink, and pulled the curtains shut. As the apartment fell into darkness once more, so did his heart.

..

The nightmares began soon after. It was as if his unconscious mind was too vulnerable to fight off the nightmares; he'd experienced them before, many times, but this time was different. It was almost too real, as if his mind was taunting him for what he'd lost, for what could never be replaced. The events of the day burned in his conscious mind, but even more so when he was asleep, his body failing him by doing the one thing he didn't want to. He didn't want to sleep, he didn't want to fight through the nightmares, nor did he want to wake up to realise she was still gone.

Sleep was his enemy now. And he wasn't strong enough to fight it any longer.

The couch was uncomfortable, and he forgot for that moment that it had always been an uncomfortable seat. She always joked about throwing it out of the window, or that it would be out on the sidewalk when he came home from work. He always promised her that they would get another couch, one that didn't feel like they were sitting on springs. It was an old couch, one that they had bought from a thrift store, but it had been the only one they could afford at the time and somehow, despite hating it, they could never let go of it. Not only that, but he was around two-foot taller than the couch, and it wasn't a comfortable bed.

He sat up and rubbed his exhausted face. He moved into the kitchen to grab a glass of water when his eyes fell on a piece of paper attached to his fridge, something that he knew hadn't been there until… Gideon was there. He sighed and shook his head, pulling it from underneath the magnet that was holding it in place.

_Goodwill Memorial Hospital. Nurse Lara Holmes. Name is on the list to visit any time. Please visit her, it's what she would've wanted._

He threw it in the trash and returned to the couch with the glass of water. He sipped at it slowly, his mind wandering back to Gideon's note. It burned his mind, and he wasn't sure if it was because he was exhausted that it stood out more, but he found himself placing his glass upon the coffee table, reaching the note out of the trash and dressing quickly.

He locked the door to his apartment and headed out to his vehicle. It must've been the middle of the night, but time meant nothing now. He wasn't sure of his destination as he started the engine and began his journey, but it seemed as though his subconscious already knew. The note burned in his trouser pocket.

He drove for a while before he found himself parked outside the hospital. And his mind hadn't caught up with him as he exited the vehicle and was walking into the hospital. The receptionist furrowed her brow at him, taking in the dishevelled appearance of him.

"I'm… Spencer Reid," he said, his voice sounding foreign to him. The receptionist offered him an understanding nod before directing him to the right ward.

"I'll phone ahead so they know to expect you," she said as he nodded and followed in the direction she showed him.

As he reached the ward, a nurse was waiting for him who instructed for him to follow her. The corridor was quiet, and he found comfort in that. As he followed behind the nurse, he was aware of the squeakiness of his shoes against the bleached floor. But the thing he was most aware of was the fact that his body and mind was screaming for him to stop, to turn and to run away. But he knew he needed to stay, to face up to what was true and real.

The nurse came to a stop in front of a window, and she turned to him then. "Are you ready to meet your daughter?"

He hesitated for a moment before he nodded. She pointed towards a cot just in front of the window. A baby, innocent and pure, was wrapped up in blankets, a yellow hat adorning her head, her eyes closed and snoozing.

"Can I… hold her?" he asked, his voice shaking.

The nurse smiled and nodded. "I think she'd like that."

As he stared at her face, he couldn't help but feel guilty for allowing his daughter—his innocent child—to not know what parental love felt like for the first three weeks of her life. Her mother was gone, but he was still there. And she needed him more than ever, and he knew he needed her.


	3. Chapter Two: Past

CHAPTER TWO

Past

They say love is friendship set on fire.

And to Reid, that was true. They quickly organised a coffee date in the few hours after their first initial introduction. Their text conversation flowed easily, which was important for Reid. He was a socially awkward soul who fretted over whether he was saying the right thing or not, but she was easy to talk to. She asked him questions about himself, wanting to know more about him, and he had realised in those moments of night where sleep often evaded him what with a chaotic study schedule that he had spent most of his life being a closed book. But with her, it was different. She wanted to know about him, she wanted to hear his thoughts and opinions on things that mattered to him.

For most of his life, Spencer Reid was lonely. He had been abandoned by his father at a young age and had taken care of his schizophrenic mother whose outburst were becoming more frequent and terrifying. He had no friends at school, preferring his own company to the company of those who made fun of him. He walked through life worried and alone. College was a different experience, where he met people of his kind: the quiet souls who thrived in a new environment and who wanted to make a better future for themselves. Though he had been lonely then, he was happy and content. But as soon as she came into his life, his world became brighter.

They had met the following Thursday in the same coffee shop, a week after they first met there. He had spotted her standing outside as he parked his vehicle across the road. She was holding the strap of her cross-body bag tightly, shifting her standing position every few seconds, nervously rubbing the back of her neck. He observed her outfit: the black tights, burgundy polka-dot dress under a thick warm jumper, and black boots. The way she was tentatively ensuring her dress was smoothed down made him realise that she'd wanted to look nice, that she was comfortable with her style choices. As he had crossed the road towards her, he saw a huge grin etch across her face.

"Hello, you!" she exclaimed confidently, a small hint of nervousness peaking through.

They hugged and he opened the door for her, the scent and the warmth of the coffee shop beckoning them inside. They found a table and he went to get them both drinks. Coffee for him, hot chocolate for her.

They sat in an awkward silence for a few moments but as they settled in each other's company, they began to ease into conversation. They spoke about school, how Spencer had another term left and then an exam to follow and a job waiting for him, and how she had another year of classes before she was ready to take on the world. She was going to be a doctor, a trauma doctor. She wanted to travel, but home was where her heart was. A home bird, of sorts. He knew a lot of travel would be in his future with his job and he was excited to see where cases would take him, but he knew the seriousness of it all.

He'd been aware of her movements, of how when she was nervous, she would comb her long hair back behind her ear even if it was already there. He noticed how her eyes would search his more deeply than he had ever experienced with anyone else; how she truly listened to every word he said with such an interest that it startled him knowing that she was truly interested in what he was saying, something he would usually feel embarrassed about or be told to be quiet; or how her eyes lit up when she spoke about things that interested her, of how a book had changed her mindset or how she had found something that she had believed to have lost.

They spoke for hours in the coffee shop before they decided to extend the date for a nice walk around the town. They walked alongside each other, noticing for the first time the difference in heights as the sun behind them cast their shadows upon the concrete in front of them. He spoke about the oldest buildings in the town, of how the town used to look, and what the attire was like back then. They went into an old town museum that had some questionable artefacts inside. They talked for hours about anything and everything before nightfall caused their date to end, and as he walked her to her door, he knew she was going to become an important part of his life.

He had wanted to kiss her then, as she stood upon fourth step that allowed them to be the same height. He had wanted nothing more but to close the gap between them, gently place a hand upon her cheek and brush his lips against hers, to feel the warmth of her close to him.

"I had a really lovely day with you Spencer," she had said, and her words had allowed his heart to open wide. It had been closed off ever since his first crush in high school had caused his trust to become non-existent in every aspect of his life.

"Thank you for making my day lovely," he had smiled, and he watched as she bit at her lip before stepping down the steps towards him. She pulled him into a hug, a much less awkward one this time, and placed a kiss upon his cheek. They remained close for a moment before she pulled away and walked up the steps to her apartment. He remained there, his legs like jelly, and she turned to him one last time with a smile so bright that it lit up the world around him.

"Goodnight Spencer," she whispered, voice low.

"Goodnight Hannah."

He remained there for a moment, watching as she opened the door with one last glance in his direction which caused his heart to swell. As she closed it behind her, it took him a few moments to feel the coldness seep into his clothes, leaving the heated mark of her kiss upon his cheek.

..

Their romance started slow, with the both of them going out to events that interested them. Their main dates revolved around a coffee shop and an endless amount of coffee and conversation, which the two of them thoroughly enjoyed. Hannah would listen to Reid as he talked animatedly about his course and the books he had read that evening. Hannah marvelled at his ability to read twenty thousand words a minute, something that she wished she was capable of. He opened up to her at how he wished he was able to switch his mind off for just a minute, where nothing mattered, and it was just him in his own company with no thoughts or information to penetrate him from the calmness he wondered if it would ever be brought to him.

They spoke about their families over dinner, finding deeper conversations to be more beneficial to them. They liked each other enough to know that neither of them would think differently of them. They spoke about things they truly wanted to talk about, finding no lapse in conversation, and finding only honesty in each other's words. And for Reid, that was everything. He had spent most of his life being pushed aside or told to be silent and so habits formed and he resented his power of knowledge and wanted nothing more than to be different – but with Hannah, he didn't have to silence himself for she was enthralled in the information stored in mind, tucked away for an opportunity to arise and be spoken.

Though their schedules were different, they both did their best to free up time to see each other. As soon as Spencer was finished with his classes for the day, he would send a text to Hannah asking if she wanted to hang out. Most of the time she was free, and others, she was knee deep in essays and assignments. He would often bring her coffee on mornings where she had a free day from college and remain in her apartment until the sun went down. He would help her study, or more recently, bring his own books with him so that he could read alongside her. It became routine for him to venture to her apartment on a Friday morning when he'd have a free day and end up staying until Sunday evening when he would have to tear himself away before a busy week ahead.

As the weeks raced by, and his final exam was quickly approaching, he relished in spending time with her more than ever as they were forced to hang out less due to other commitments. Though they always enjoyed their phone calls before they fell to sleep, it wasn't the same.

Hannah had begun to find herself missing Spencer the more time they spent apart. As their schedules became increasingly and overwhelmingly busy, she found her feelings for him begin to become overwhelming in every sense. She missed his voice, the way his voice raised at the end of every sentence, and the way he would _truly_ look at her when she spoke. And it seemed those were the little things she loved about him.

_Loved_.

She looked up from her notes and observed her friend. He was absentmindedly reading a book and unaware of her redirected attention towards him, though he wouldn't tell her that he always felt when her eyes were on him. She wondered if Spencer had felt the same about her; it was a burning feeling in the depths of her stomach that always sparked when he would look at her and she felt like her skin was on fire. And Hannah truly believed that it was that strong that Spencer would be able to feel the heat radiate from her whenever he was near her. But doubt always crept in when she acknowledged that she saw him in a different light, how could he like her? He made no inclination that he did like her more than a friend.

Hannah returned her attention towards her notes and felt that familiar wave of uncertainty creep in. And when his voice filled her ears, she knew why that doubt never left her.

"I've been offered a job in Virginia," he whispered, and as she raised her gaze to him, she realised he was staring at her. His eyes always spoke a thousand words which she had always admired about him. There was a heaviness to them now. "It's for position at the BAU in Quantico. I applied for it believing I wouldn't get it but… I heard back and they… liked me enough to offer me the position without an interview."

He could see the pain flash across her face, but it was only for a split second. And he had to question himself as to whether he had actually witnessed it in the first place as it was such a quick change. A smile was now etched across her face except it never reached her eyes like it usually did.

"That's amazing, Spencer!" she exclaimed happily. "That's… wow… I'm proud of you."

"You are?" Reid asked, taken aback. No one had ever said they were proud of him before in his life; his father having abandoned him at such a tender age, and his mother living in her own world for most of his life. Any achievements of his were always left uncelebrated, but now that was different.

"Of course, I am!" Hannah beamed. "You've worked so hard for this. When... when do you have to leave?"

"As soon as my final exam is over," he whispered, keeping his gaze upon her. He needed to know her reaction, to confirm his feelings. He needed to know if she felt the same way he did, he needed to know.

"That's… next week," Hannah faltered then. "You're leaving next week."

"Come with me…" he whispered before he even realised.

Hannah let out a laugh before she fell silent. "I can't. I have my studies here, I can't… it's not that I don't want to, but I can't just leave…"

Spencer nodded then shook his head. "I don't know why I said that. I just… the thought of leaving you, I don't even want to think about that. Your friendship means so much to me and I'm worried it won't be the same with me moving across the country. But I know it will. You mean a lot to me. And I want to keep you in my life for as long as I can."

He saw the tears pool in her eyes and threaten to fall. He moved to her then, closing the gap between them. And he held her when the tears came and went, and he held her even after that. He had never had someone who was going to miss him; he'd gone through life being invisible, but she had allowed him to come out of his shell, gave him the confidence to step into the light and grab life with both hands. She had shown him how to believe in himself.

And by doing that, she had unknowingly set him free.


End file.
